Chapter 30
GARRETT
The Phantoms practiced their first morning in Nashville, and then we all returned to the hotel. Their game wasn’t until tomorrow night, so after they had a team meeting, we had the day to explore the city and relax.
Some of the fathers and sons went golfing, including Ben and Liam.
Others had arranged visits to the Grand Ole Opry and some other landmarks in town.
Chris and I toured the Opry, then joined three of his teammates in an escape room, and the whole day was a blast. Now we were back at the hotel with dinner reservations in a couple of hours, so we were all just chilling and socializing in the lounge on the mezzanine.
There was a small but bougie coffee shop downstairs in the lobby, and between the jet lag and the busy day, I needed the caffeine. So, I bowed out of the conversation with Chris, Temo, Barns, and their dads, and I headed downstairs.
I’d been in line for a minute or two, idly scrolling my phone, when a voice raised pleasant goose bumps on the back of my neck.
“Enjoying the trip so far?”
I turned around, and it took a lot of work to maintain a friendly, platonic smile when I met those amazing eyes. “Hey. How was golf?”
Liam groaned. “You’d think I’d learn never to play my dad, but…” He waved a hand.
“Oh yeah?”
Scowling playfully, he nodded. “He’s way better than I am, and he’s also a relentless shit-talker.”
“So, you’re saying it’s genetic? The shit-talking?”
He laughed, sending a rush of warmth through me that had my toes curling in my sneakers. “I mean, kinda? I did learn a lot of it from him.” He shook his head. “But he makes it really hard to concentrate on, you know, golfing?”
“Isn’t that kind of the point?”
He grumbled something and rolled his eyes.
I just chuckled.
We were out in the open, so we didn’t let the conversation linger. I paid for the drinks I was getting for myself and Chris, then headed back up the mezzanine. I felt weird, walking away from Liam. I wanted him to join us. I wanted to be close to him.
Not here. Not now.
I gave myself a moment to long for a day when we could be out as a couple. Publicly and unabashedly.
But that day wasn’t today, and I was on this trip to focus on my son. So that was what I did.
Tried to, anyway, because the irony of being on the dads’ trip with Chris was that aside from that first day in Nashville, some meals, and the brief hangouts between activities, I barely had a chance to spend time with him.
I’d expected that, of course—he had practice, pregame naps, and games, not to mention media availability and his pregame routines.
The team staff would take the dads out during the players’ pregame naps, and we had some amazing food at some incredible restaurants.
I lived for the time I actually spent with my son, though.
Fortunately, after we’d flown to Houston for the last game of the trip, we had some much-needed downtime.
We’d had dinner with some of the guys earlier, and while some went out to check out what the city had to offer, Chris and I had decided to take it easy.
We’d watched a hockey game on TV, and now we were winding down for the evening.
It was nice. A few low-key hours of one-on-one time with my son—I definitely couldn’t complain.
I missed Liam, of course. The only person I’d spent less time with on this trip was him, and I was getting restless.
But we’d be back in Pittsburgh soon enough.
In the meantime, I had this evening to chill with Chris, though I did surreptitiously exchange a few texts with Liam when Chris was focused on the game or on his own phone during a commercial.
Nothing salacious or scandalous, just a few short, benign messages.
They were enough to scratch the itch his absence had left, and I didn’t feel too guilty about stealing a moment here and there to read and respond.
Now the game was over and Liam had sent a goodnight text. Nothing left to do but call it a night.
I went in to take a shower, and when I came out, Chris was on the phone. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but the way his brow was furrowed as he paced the room with the phone pressed to his ear—that had alarm bells going off.
“Is the doctor worried about it?” he asked. “You and the baby are okay, right? You’re not—”
From where I sat on the edge of my bed, I couldn’t hear what Jasmine was saying, but it must’ve been helping because Chris was slowly relaxing.
“Okay, so it’s just… kind of normal?” He closed his eyes and exhaled, having apparently been assured that whatever was going on was kind of normal. “Okay. Okay, good. Get some sleep. I’ll text you in the morning. Love you too.”
He ended the call and closed his eyes.
I studied him. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but… are Jasmine and the baby okay?”
“They’re fine.” He sounded both relieved and exhausted, as if he’d just played a whole sixty-minute game instead of having a call with his girlfriend. “She was having some trouble breathing, so her OB said to go to the ER.”
I sat up straighter. “Oh, shit. What was the verdict?”
He laughed quietly. “As she put it, things are getting crowded”—he gestured at his own midsection—“and the baby’s pushing on her diaphragm and lungs. The doctor said he’ll probably drop soon, and then she’ll be able to breathe better.”
“Ah. That.” I relaxed. “Yeah, your mom was pretty uncomfortable around this stage. As soon as the baby drops…” I nodded. “It’ll help.”
“Thank God for that. She’s been miserable.”
“Kinda comes with the territory, unfortunately.”
“No kidding.” He sat down on the couch. “I wish there was more I could do for her.”
“Yeah. I know that feeling. It’s not forever, though. In fact, it’ll go faster than you think.”
I thought he paled a bit. Exhaling hard, he raked a hand through his hair. “And then the baby will be here.”
“Right?” I watched him. “That’s… That’s a good thing, though.”
“It is, but…” He pushed out a harsh breath. “I’m not going to lie—I am terrified of becoming a dad.”
“Ah. That.” I smiled, got up, and joined him on the couch. “You want to know something?”
He turned to me, brow pinched and eyes begging me to reassure him.
“There isn’t a dad out there who wasn’t scared to death when the first baby came along.”
Chris swallowed. “Really?”
“Really.” I patted his arm. “Trust me—it seems like the biggest and scariest thing in the world. And to some degree, that never goes away. You’re always scared of screwing up as a dad or about—” I hesitated, deciding the words “about something happening to your kid” might not be what he needed to hear in that moment.
“It’s a huge responsibility. But then the baby shows up, and instead of being one enormous thing, it’s a million little things. ”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Like if you think about everything you have to do to for the first few months, it’s—shit, it’s enough to make me tired just remembering it.
But in the moment, it’s… feed him. Then burp him.
Then change him. Then put him down for a nap.
” I rolled my hand. “It becomes a lot of small tasks, one after the other. And sure, it’s exhausting, and it’s a lot, but it becomes less terrifying. ”
He stared down at his wringing hands as he seemed to chew on that.
“It probably doesn’t help that you didn’t have the best role model,” I admitted. “I don’t have to tell you that I made a lot of mistakes.” I squeezed his forearm. “But I got a lot right, too, and so will you. It’s intimidating and terrifying, but it’s not nearly as easy to screw it up as it seems.”
He laughed softly. “Maybe not. It’s just… scary. I’m thrilled about it, and I can’t wait until he’s born, but then sometimes I’m like, yo, I’m twenty-three. I’m way too young for this.”
“You’re not. I was too young. Your mom was too young. Hell, you were born when I was younger than you are now, and you have two older siblings.”
Chris grimaced. “I can’t imagine having three right now. Just one on the way is already a lot.”
“It is. And you’ll be fine.” I paused, then sat up a little.
“Chris, look at me.” When he did, I said, “You’re young, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.
You’re more mature now at twenty-three than I was at thirty-three.
Some of that…” I winced. “Some of it is because your mom and I fucked up, and you and your siblings had to mature faster than you should have. That’s on me.
But it’s also because you’re you. You’re smart.
You’re empathetic. You were always a good kid and you grew up into a good man.
And that was after we made all the mistakes we did.
” I smiled. “You’re going to be just fine as a dad. ”
He lowered his gaze, and I thought he might be choking up a little. I didn’t speak, just let him compose himself.
When he had, he said, “You weren’t as bad of a dad as you think.”
Shit. Now it was my turn to start getting emotional, though I think I kept that out of my voice. “I wasn’t exactly getting any gold stars, though. The fact that this is the first time I’ve come with you on the dads’ trip…”
Chris sighed, shaking his head. “You and Mom sucked at being married. And yeah, the way things happened—the divorce and all that shit—but you were still a good dad.”
“I could’ve been a lot better.”
“From what I’ve heard, most parents can say that.”
“Most parents don’t end up estranged from their kids.”
He winced. “We… might’ve gone overboard on that.”
I blinked. “What?”
Chris shrugged. “We were all upset. It was hard. But once we got back in contact…” His shoulders sagged and he slumped forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at the carpet.
“I mean, I’ve known people who’ve gone no-contact with their parents over a lot worse.
I don’t blame them at all. But as soon we started talking again, all I could think was maybe I overreacted.
Yeah, I was mad and it fucking hurt, but… ” He shook his head slowly.